


All I Could Do Was Cry

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to The Ex-Factor] Rick has broken Michonne's heart more times than either of them can count, but he soon learns that it's not so much fun when it's his feelings that are on the line. </p><p>(AU Richonne one-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Could Do Was Cry

**All I Could Do Was Cry**

_Together with their parents_  
_Michonne Vianne Pierce_  
_And_  
_Morgan Frazier Jones_  
_Request the honor of your presence at their marriage._  
_Saturday, December 20, 2014 at 5:00 pm_  
_The Georgian Terrace  
_ _-Reception to follow-_

Rick stared at the wedding invitation in disbelief. Michonne's wedding invitation, it seemed. He examined it, looking for something that said, 'Haha, just kidding.' Or perhaps a hidden message that only he would understand. He looked at the envelope again, just to be sure it was addressed to him. Indeed, written in black calligraphy, _Mr. & Mrs. Rick Grimes_. He continued to stare at the fancy square of paper as his wife puttered into the kitchen.

"What's that you got?" she questioned absently as she thumbed through the rest of the mail. Bills, bills, bills.

"Wedding invitation," he returned hoarsely. Somewhere along the way, a lump seemed to have formed in his throat.

Lori pulled her long brown hair into a high ponytail as she tried to think through anyone they knew that had recently gotten engaged. She knew none of her friends had. "Who's getting married?" she frowned. He silently handed over the invitation and let her read through it, her hazel eyes widening as she recognized the name. "Her?" she needed to confirm for herself.

"That would be her."

She returned the paper to his clutches and moved to the refrigerator to pull out her marinating chicken. "I thought you two ended on bad terms."

"We did."

"So why on earth would she invite you to her wedding?"

"Us," he corrected her with a sigh. "I don't know." His eyes moved across the words on the invitation one more time, trying to make sense of the emotions that they'd conjured within him. He felt angry, for some reason. And maybe a little sad.

"Well, it's been two years now. Maybe she just wants to let bygones be bygones."

"Maybe..." His voice told her he had gone off somewhere else.

"Hey," she called out, trying to bring him back to their kitchen. His eyes darted up at her and she smiled back. "You okay?"

"I'm good," he lied, feigning a smile for her benefit. "What's for dinner?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Besides your feelings? I've got some lime cilantro chicken over here and it's your choice between roasted corn, or corn and tomato salad."

"I'll go with the roasted corn." He slowly rose from his seat at the kitchen table, making sure to take the invitation with him. He trudged upstairs to his office and took an exasperated seat. With a sigh, he picked up the phone and began to dial Michonne's number.

* * *

When he walked into Davio's, she was sitting at their table, just like the last time, looking just as beautiful as ever. Some things never seemed to change. She wore her endless dreads in a ponytail, her face decorated with a simple pair of diamond studs as she turned towards him. He didn't understand how she managed to be so understated and so gorgeous at the same time. She was dressed in all black, probably having just come from the salon, as that was where she tended to spend her Saturdays.

"Hey," his somber grin reached the table before he did. It was bittersweet to see her now. Some part of him felt like she would always be his, but that wasn't the case anymore.

She stood up to greet him, almost dazed by how handsome he looked. He wore his hair short again, like he did when they first met, and with the gray peeking from his sideburns, he was more attractive than ever to her. She supposed it was because he looked less like an asshole. She wondered if married life had somehow sobered him. "Hi there," she left a peck on his stubbly cheek before sitting down.

"Thank you. For meeting with me," he declared sincerely, taking a seat as well. He seemed to be searching her face for the woman he remembered. "After last time, I wasn't sure you'd show."

"Well I figure you weren't gonna tell me you're getting married again, so..."

He couldn't take that smile of hers. Ten years and it still stopped his heart. "You're right about that," he returned, almost timidly. "How've you been?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Really good."

"I guess that's obvious, what with you gettin' married and all."

She enjoyed that he seemed a bit nervous around her now. "How 'bout you? Still in that honeymoon stage?"

He managed to avoid the question as their waiter came to take their orders. He requested a Jack & Coke while she kept it simple with sweet tea. They stared at one another awkwardly as they waited for him to disappear.

Her eyes were so drawn to him, even now, after all the things he'd done to her. She wished she could still read him, and that was if she ever could. He seemed melancholy, but also at ease. It didn't make sense, the vibe he was giving off. "What's wrong with you?" she eventually demanded.

He looked up from the table, dumfounded. "What?"

"You're acting weird, and I have no idea what to do with it."

"What do you mean, weird? What am I doing?"

"Why are you being nice?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I can think of plenty of reasons."

He shrugged casually as he accepted his newly arrived drink. He took a sip before he offered an answer. "You invite me to your wedding, I figure it's time to bury the hatchet."

"Okay," she nodded as she uncovered her straw and dropped it into her tea. "It's not because I'm getting married?"

"I'm not following you."

She had to laugh at how much work he was doing to seem nonchalant about this. She realized that was the weirdness she'd detected. "You're trying to be casual, and it's not working."

"I've been married for two years now. Why would I care if you do the same?"

She frowned at his words, angry at herself for caring whether he cared. "Do you?"

The way she scrunched her face was adorable, he thought. "It's not my place to worry about who you're screwing anymore."

"Anymore," she smirked. "There's a statement."

He watched her motion across the table to take a sip of his drink, just like she used to, but he was quick to stop her. "That's mine."

She stared at him, unamused, and left the glass where it was. "So much for being nice, I guess," she noted beneath her breath.

"You could've ordered your own."

"Coulda, shoulda, woulda," she sighed, locking her eyes on his baby blues. "Right?"

"Fair enough," he conceded with a chuckle.

"So why did you wanna see me, Rick? I'm assuming it wasn't just to deny me a drink."

He took another pull from his glass and gazed at her curiously. How did he become the bad guy for ordering a drink? "You're so good at playing the victim," he proclaimed a bit bitingly, a sarcastic grin covering his face.

"Years of abuse will do that to you," she shot back coolly.

"It's almost like you think you never hurt me back."

"How did I do that, Rick?"

"You don't really care about that now, do you?"

Her phone vibrated against the table and she smiled at the text that arrived from her fiancé. "Why are we here?" she asked again, hoping he'd give her a real answer this time.

"I wanted to know why you invited me to your wedding."

"You could've asked me that over the phone. Or just declined."

"Maybe I wanted to see you."

She smiled at him flirtatiously. "Looking for a little afternoon delight?"

"I was definitely not looking for that," he blushed. The sex between them had always been good, but he'd left that in another life.

"Unless I'm offering…"

He called over the waiter to order her favorite drink, a Whiskey Sour, and looked back at her smugly. "I'm in love with Lori," he promised quietly.

"Never stopped you before." Was he faithful to Lori, she wondered? Was he really in love with this woman? It still stung, sometimes, when she questioned why it couldn't have been her instead.

"I never cheated on you, Michonne."

"It's more irrelevant now than it was two years ago," she chuckled derisively.

"It's just as true as it was two years ago, too."

"So… the perfume on your collar, the panties in your pocket, that was all just my imagination…"

"Running away with you," he confirmed with a nod.

"Okay." She sighed loudly, but as she mentioned, none it mattered anymore anyway. As her drink was served, she made sure to order a bottle of wine for the table just before downing her cocktail in one gulp. It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be, sitting there with him. "That's your story and you're sticking to it, I guess."

"Women like me," he shrugged. "It doesn't mean I like them back."

"Rick…"

"I know I fucked up, Michonne. I'm not denying that." He leaned in to the table and spoke in a harsh whisper. "But my dick stayed in my pants unless I was with you."

"And then it was never in your pants," she giggled. She began to play with her empty glass, sliding it back and forth between her hands. "Drink faster."

"Of course," he took another big sip from his drink. "I forgot you hate drinking alone."

"I sure do," she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. He was so inscrutable, it bordered on annoying. "Are we having a fight? I can't tell anymore."

His mesmeric blue eyes gazed into her captivating brown ones, and he wished he could've taken away all the shitty things they'd done to one another in the past. It did seem like they were always in some argument or another. But what was the point anymore? The people they'd been to each other probably didn't even exist anymore. "I think it's safe to say we've had all the fights we're gonna have, Michonne."

* * *

An hour later, the two of them were still sitting there, having shared a few appetizers and way too much wine, laughing like old friends. It was almost unfathomable that they'd broken each other's hearts over and over again in the previous decade, because they really were good together when they weren't so bad together.

"You should have some coffee," Rick noted in his tipsy stupor that she was leaning against the table unsteadily, even more wasted than he was. "You know how you get."

"Oh, shut up," she giggled, brushing imaginary hair from her face. She squinted at him, as if she could no longer place his face. "Why are you trying to get me drunk, Rick Grimes?"

"I'm pretty sure you ordered the two extra bottles of wine."

"Well you drank 'em too," she reminded him. "You don't even like wine."

"What can I say? You always bring out the best in me."

"Oh god," she snorted, smiling at him widely.

"I can still make you laugh, I see."

She ignored his statement as she took another sip. "You wanna know the best thing that ever happened to me?"

He definitely did not want to have that conversation, not if it meant bringing her fiancé back into the fold. They were having such a lovely evening. "Let's not start."

"Do me the kindness, Rick."

He rolled his eyes, but was quick to indulge her, because that's what he always did. "What's the best thing that ever happened to you, Chonne?"

"You."

He was too drunk to understand whether she was joking, so he simply stared at her, waiting for her to go on.

"For a long time, I didn't know what I did to deserve someone like you. For you to keep walking in and out of my life." She was swaying back and forth as she spoke, which made it seem like she was complimenting him, but she wasn't. "But I had to love a bad man to recognize when a good one walked into my life. If it weren't for you, I would never have known that Morgan was my happy ending."

"I suppose I deserve that," he raised his glass to her epiphany and finished off his final drops of Merlot.

"It's not about you," she wanted to assure him. "We had fun, we did. And I know you loved me in your own way. But… I can't thank you enough for walking away."

He smiled at her sorrowfully. "I'm proud of you. I'm happy for you."

"How about you? You really happy?"

"Well…" He let out a long exhale as he sat back in his seat, feeling simultaneously stuffed and plastered. "As it turns out, marriage is just a really expensive way to slowly let down the person you love until you hate each other."

Her head tilted to the side as she studied him for a moment. His happiness, or lack thereof, was none of her concern any longer, but she felt a small twinge of sorrow for him, thinking that maybe he wasn't. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"It's a Saturday night and I'm getting drunk with my ex-girlfriend, while my pregnant wife sits at home, doing… whatever it is she does nowadays." He looked at Michonne, waiting for her to process the information he'd just given her. "So you tell me."

Yet again, she felt like he'd dropped a bomb on her. But unlike last time, she didn't feel the slightest need to react negatively. "Congratulations," she offered softly, even if she figured he didn't want it.

"Children are a blessing." He rolled his eyes at the fact that he had to actually convince himself of that. He simply could not stop himself from being an asshole.

"They are, Rick."

"But they don't fix broken relationships."

Which was precisely why she made sure that they never had any. "No, they don't…"

"I should go," he noted suddenly… somberly. "You want me to call you a cab?"

She held up her phone to remind him that they were in the 21st century. "Uber."

He nodded as he drunkenly pulled out his wallet. He left three hundred dollar bills on the table and stood. "Walk me outside?"

"You're not about to drive, are you?" she frowned.

"I was gonna smoke a cigarette and then call my wife."

She stood as well, wobbly as it might have been, and latched onto his arm for support. "She knows where you are?"

"Oh yeah, we tell each other everything," he nodded as he helped her from the restaurant. "Everything but what we're feeling."

She smiled as she managed to find a way to walk and talk at the same time. "Starting to notice a pattern with you, Richard."

"Not my full name, though." She always did that when she wanted to annoy him.

Silently and unsteadily, they moved outside to the lovely autumn Atlanta evening, enjoying that it was just the two of them and the bustle of cars passing through. Michonne studied the skyline of the city while Rick studied her, in all her beauty and strength. He was glad that she'd found a way to be happy.

"This was nice," he declared softly, almost hating to break their pleasant peace. "Seeing you again, laughing again."

She turned her head towards his voice, remembering how much she missed it sometimes. Missed him sometimes. "You notice how nothing changes between us?" she smirked. "Things we say, things we don't say, and it all still amounts to, 'I wish I didn't love you.'"

"Nah," he exhaled as he retrieved his cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, "I'm glad I got to love you. 'Specially when I didn't deserve it."

She didn't respond. She didn't know how to.

"I don't know if you really meant for me to come, but I don't think I can watch you get married."

She nodded. She wasn't sure why she invited him, if she were being honest. Maybe to hurt him, maybe just so he'd know that she moved on, too. Maybe just to see him again. But she understood why he wouldn't want to be there. "This was good. Seeing you tonight."

"I just said that," he smiled.

She noticed that her car had pulled up already, and she inwardly cursed them for being so punctual. She wanted more time. He didn't deserve it, and maybe she didn't either, but she wanted it. "I think that's me…"

Before he could light his cigarette, he extended his arm to offer her a handshake, but she pulled him into a hug instead. She clutched at his waist while his arms wrapped around her neck and he inhaled her lovely, expensive scent. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed her embrace. It was then and there that he finally understood the repercussions of walking away from Michonne Pierce for good.

"You take care of yourself," she whispered to him with one last squeeze. "Okay?"

He nodded as she pulled away, gazing into her eyes one last time. "You, too." He didn't take his eyes off of her as she turned to walk away from him, but he couldn't let her. He needed one last something. "Hey," he called after her. "Any chance I ever get my UGA hat back?"

She turned and began to move back towards him. "Funny you mention that, because I was gonna bring it. But then I thought you'd think I was being overly sentimental and you hadn't even thought of it, so I just left it. It's in my basement if you really do want it."

He smiled at the fact that that stupid hat was even on her mind. It had to mean that he was, too. "You think about me that much, huh?"

She gave him a playful shrug and then a wink. "You left a strong impression."

His lips moved to say something else - that he loved her, would miss her, something to cap the moment, but his brain obviously thought better of it, because nothing came out. All he could do was watch her leave.

* * *

 _I heard church bells ringing_  
_I heard a choir singing_  
_I saw my love walk down the aisle  
_ _On her finger, he placed a ring_

Michonne had always been a beautiful woman, and anyone that knew her knew as much. But on her wedding day, she was absolutely radiant. She wore a stark white dress, simple and elegant in all its body-hugging splendor. Her hair hung in curls around her stunning face, and her golden-toned makeup made her look like she'd been kissed by the sun. And as she appeared in the threshold of the Grand Ballroom, every eye in the room became witness to it. She was flawless.

Rick was speechless as he watched her move past him. He had never seen her smile so big or look so happy, she was practically floating down the aisle. Floating towards someone else, a man that wasn't him.

 _I saw them holding hands  
_ _He was standing there with my woman_

Rick looked over to his wife, wondering what she was thinking. The night he met with Michonne and she had to pick him up, he told her he didn't want to go to the wedding, but somewhere along the way, he realized that he had to see her again. Lori was supportive, as she always was, but as hard as it was for him to sit there, it couldn't have been any easier for her to do this with him.

"She's very pretty," she whispered to him as Michonne reached the altar. She had seen pictures of the woman her husband had been in love with for so long, but they didn't quite do her justice. It was no wonder he couldn't let her go. "You sure you don't wanna object?"

He knew she was kidding, but he took her hand into his before responding. "I'm sure I love you," he returned quietly.

"Sure," she smirked.

The two of them quieted while Michonne and Morgan's friends read passages from The Bible and offered quotes about love and commitment, but Rick simply couldn't keep his eyes off of his ex. He could tell that this was who Michonne wanted to be when they were together. This was who she'd tried to be, but he simply hadn't let her. He had been too busy doing what he wanted to do.

He listened intently as Morgan said his vows. He promised to honor and respect her and all those things that you say at weddings, but most importantly, he vowed to be present and accountable in their lives. The very thing Rick struggled with every single day – simply giving a shit. This guy was offering to her on a silver platter. He knew this was what Michonne meant when she said he taught her how to love a good man.

_I heard them promise 'til death do us part_

Michonne was already tearing up as he spoke, but once she began her vows, it was Rick that couldn't contain himself. He was still holding onto Lori's hand, but the tears were streaming down his face as the true love of his life promised herself to another man.

"I vow to fight for you," she promised earnestly. "Especially when you feel like giving up is the easiest option. When you're sick of looking at me and there's that little voice in your head chanting, 'Go. Run. Leave.' I promise I'll be in the doorway, blocking you, pushing you back in, insisting that you stay." She wiped the tears that were threatening to ruin her makeup before she went on. "And I vow to fight  _with_  you. Even though we don't fight, we will at some point, and I'll be ready for a death match, if that's what you want." Her eyes drifted to the audience, and she almost lost her nerve when she saw Rick sitting there. With his wife. She knew he had changed his mind about coming, but to actually see his face in the sea of people there, it gently shook her out of her focus. She quickly looked back at Morgan before going on. "Morgan Jones, I promise to always come home with something interesting to say. Because I don't want our lives to be full of silence, filling the gaps with all the words we don't speak. Even if that means being honest when it hurts. I vow to be there when it hurts. I want to be your best friend, I wanna make you a better man. I promise to always be the exact person you fell in love with."

_Each word was a pain in my heart_

Rick closed his eyes and let his tears fall as freely as they wanted to. When he decided to attend this wedding, he foolishly thought that seeing her again would make him feel better. That perhaps it would be like their last meeting, where they could share a laugh and he could believe that his life wasn't quite so bleak. But the truth was, he was witnessing someone else be the man he was supposed to be to her, and it was absolute torture.

 _All I could do was cry, all I could do was cry  
_ _I was losing the woman I love, a_ _nd all I could do was cry_

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Lori hissed at him, feeling almost embarrassed by his rush of tears. She didn't know any of these people, but a lot of them had to know Rick, and she refused to sit there, six months pregnant, while her husband cried over another woman. "Go fucking tell her you love her if she means that much to you."

"You're only making it worse," he whispered back, unwilling to open his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

"You can't do this to me, Rick. Not in front of all these people."

"Lori, please."

She was about to respond when everyone around them stood and begun to clap in celebration. She supposed they had just been pronounced husband and wife, which meant the newlyweds would be headed their way soon. "Get up," she told Rick, standing herself. "Please."

He didn't, though. He couldn't. He simply sat with his face buried in his hands, and cried for the happy couple.

 _And now the wedding is over_  
_The rice has been thrown over their heads  
_ _For them, life has just begun  
_ _But mine is ending_

* * *

_Lyrics: "All I Could Do Was Cry" - Etta James (At Last!)_


End file.
